A Night At Home
by SuperWhoLock94
Summary: Dean and you have decided to spend a night at home after a long week. But reading gets in the way.


Today had been such a tiring day, all you wanted to do was sit down and read while wearing your favorite comfy T. After you slip it on and climb under the comforts, propped up on pillows and pick up your spot where you left off, Dean sits down next you, disturbing you from your book. You give him the meanest look that you can muster. He just laughs and continues taking off his watch and his necklace. He lays them on the bedside table and lifts the sheets to get in bed.

"What are you reading?"

"Harry Potter."

"Why?"

"Because I like the complexity, story line, character development, and pretty much everything in it." He looks at you in confusion and then looks down shaking his head and laughs. A muttered "you're such a nerd" is barely audible over the cricket sounds coming in through the window. You shrug your shoulders and go back to your book, but a head interrupts you. Again.

"Can I help you?" The tone and snippiness of your voice surprises him and he leans back, "I was just reading along." He raises his hands as if innocent. "You peeked my interest. Is there anything wrong with that, sugar?" A smile makes its way onto his face as he looks you over, biting his bottom lip.

"I _guess_ you can read along." You move your arms so he can lay against your side.

"Actually, I'm not much of a reader," you look right at him "but I am interested. Can you read it to me?" He lays with his read perfectly centered on your lap. His eyes are big, with a puppy dog face attempt. It almost works.

"But I'm already on chapter 3."

"Give me a quick summary." He begins to play with the hem of your shirt as you gulp, trying to push away the overwhelming feeling of kissing him.

"Fi-ine."

He continues to play with your shirt and then a piece of loose hair hanging from your attempt at putting all of it back with a clip. Chills run through you as he brushes your collarbone hardly visible by the collar of the shirt.

"The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first timeout on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches."

Now, Dean had lifted the bottom of your shirt and was rubbing his hand across your ribs, watching as you read. He smiled and nodded for you to continue. This man…

"Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.

This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny."

An outburst of laughter came from your lap, and moved the book to find him in a fit of manly giggles. Once he had calmed down enough, he noticed you looking at him with an eyebrow raised and a curve on your lips.

"I thought it was funny. Dudley is actually pretty funny. I guess I can relate to him because of the way I was with Sammy." A small giggle escaped him again. He nodded again and twirled the lock of hair. You continue on with the story.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn 't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, 24 and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life."

You went to flip the page and a hand grabs yours. Looking over the book, he is watching you carefully and his eyes are crinkled on the sides from the grin you couldn't see. This was going somewhere that didn't involve reading.

His other hand tightened around your side as he grabbed the book and laid it on the bedside table. You try to act confuse but you know exactly what's going on in his head. He shifts himself so he can rest his other hand on your face. You can't help the butterflies that appear in your stomach and you nod into his hand, letting it hold your head up.

Trying to act innocent, "why aren't we reading anymore?"

"I have a better idea."

Then as you go to open your mouth to speak, his lips are on yours and now he has you by the back of your neck pressing into you harder. He slips his tongue into your mouth, wanting access, which you grant. His tongue moves against you lip, and then he runs his teeth gently against it, knowing that lip biting is the best thing he can do to you. His breath is hot against your mouth as you continue to explore each other's mouths.

You continue as you put a hand under his shirt and tug at it to lift over his head. He lifts his arms and you break from kissing to take it off. His smile is felt against your mouth as you move your hands over his chest sending a shiver through him and up to his neck where you grab on to the little hairs and make fists. He moans and it takes everything you have to not lean him back against the pillow. He needs to make the first move.

As if on cue, he rests his hand in the hollow of your back with the other sitting between your shoulder blades; he gently rolls you onto your back and lays over you. Dean continues to explore the nape of your neck and the jaw line. Soft kisses leave warm spots as he kisses down your stomach. He stops over your belly button and his hand begins to play with the waistband of your cute, lace, pink panties that you just happen to be wearing that day.

Dean lays his head on your stomach, breathing heavily, until he mutters something against the cotton of the shirt.

"Wha?"

"I said, you are wearing my Led Zeppelin t-shirt."

Warmth and a blush begin to work its way up your neck and over your cheeks. All your t-shirts were dirty and his are just so comfortable…

"So what if I am?"

This time, he looked up with a menacing grin on his face and raised his left eyebrow.

"Because it makes you almost completely irresistible." Then he was in front of you, so close you could feel his breath. You could smell his body wash and cologne even after the long day. He smelled of whiskey, his nightly drink and something sweet but with a hint of musk; an underlining fire smell that always drives you crazy. You close the gap between you looking into the green eyes across from you before the spark of the kiss closes them.

He sits up and you crawl from under the rest of the covers, onto your knees, and then straddle him. You can feel his hard dick pressing against the inside of your thigh and you push back, grinding against-

"_Oh, God_..." He was breathing heavy again, hot against your neck.

You press again, feeling him react as he bites gently on your neck that makes you press harder against him. He seemed to be getting bigger.

You continue to move your hips back and forth, your breathing starting to quicken. Pressing your heads together, he pushes against you as the motion between you makes you want him more and more.

This is something that you can handle; something you _need_.

"Dean, just fuck me already."

His head snaps up, and he moves immediately to remove his boxers. You help him and he stands at the end of the bed with his length visible for you. Moving back into the bed, you take off your shirt, joining his on the floor, and as you go to slip off your panties, he grabs your hands.

"Let me." The lust and gruffness of his voice sends you back onto the pillow and relaxing as your panties are being slowly taken off by Dean's teeth and fingers; the edge of his teeth grazing your skin making goose bumps cover your body. You could tell just how wet you are, ready for him.

He grabs a condom from the drawer and puts it on without looking. He comes back up to you, lining up his face with yours and you can feel his cock against you. You kiss one more time before he slips his hand down and takes two fingers, sliding them against your opening then they disappear; but as soon as they did, they were back but his tip was at your hole this time. He guided his tip into you, and immediately you feel your body react. You are more sensitive to the touch of him and the heart beat bumping in your chest is picking up speed. He moves in you a little deeper before he puts his length up to the base inside of you. He's big and hot and _perfect_. A gasp of breath escapes you as he pulls back out teasing you as he repeats the process. This won't do.

You grab his back and careful not to remove him from you, roll onto your sides then onto his back. A slow process but after what will happen, he won't mind. Cowgirl was his favorite anyways.

You begin to grind back and forth, pulling up to where he almost is out but then right back down. A moan is let out, his eyes closing and him biting his lip. Dean's face seemed to be growing red in the neck and you leaned down to kiss it. This must have done it because nails were soon digging into your back and then a tight hold on your hips. A ball of heat is growing in your stomach, the build of the orgasm increasing fast. The movements of riding back and forth are becoming faster, the want of him cumming in you strong. Dean begins to mutter, becoming more clear as the movements continued.

"I love you. I want you, forever and always."

Truth rang behind these words. You know that they stand true and will continue that way. When Dean and you first started dating, he told you write off the bat that he wasn't an emotional guy, not one for chick flick moments and definitely not one for the "lovey dovey" talk. But the first night he said he loved you was the first night you had sex. It was amazing and as you both laid down, he whispered it in your ear as he kissed your neck. Every time after that, he said it with such emotion and love that it seemed to seep through with every letter. This only made you want him more.

Soon, you feel it finally spill over the edge and a moan fills the room as a shudder rips through your body making your toes curl. You press into him with your hands clinging to his and he presses into you. His moan then overpowers yours as you feel him cum in you, his knuckles turning white with the hold he has on your hands. He lets go and grabs onto your hips, pushing you back and forth making the orgasm last longer and you feel another one beginning inside you. You are already wet from teasing and your own orgasm, but another one… The feeling of you rubbing against him with his dick inside you, the build of another, makes you arch your back and your head slung back.

Forcing yourself off of him, you lay on his stomach and roll over, careful to not pull him out of you. He lays his arm out, the perfect position for you to cuddle in with your head in the nook of his arm. A content comes from both you and both of you look with a crooked smile on his face, feeling as though it was reflecting the one on yours. This makes you giggle and he laughs along, too. He tucks the same piece from earlier behind your ear and settles his rough but strong hand on your arm, feeling as though you could sleep through war and would feel protected.

"We should read more often."

You would be the first one to agree to that. "Yeah, I think we should." Both of you close your eyes, listening to the cricket's chirps as you fall asleep.


End file.
